Anne Reigns It In

You want humble?  That's what you're going to get

When Sexy Back in the Day finally rattles off the Best Supporting Actress in a Movie SAG nominees this evening, there's a collective eye-roll that overtakes the room like a group wave in the bleachers at a sporting event.  Says one seated across from the Les Misérables table, "That's what Anne's wearing?  It looks like the Rachel Weisz Golden Globe trainwreck from a few weeks ago."  Another: "It is.  Louis Vitton plucked out all the polka dots and told her she could use it as long as she called it a Giambattista Valli."  Meanwhile, Grandma Smurf elbows Harvey Weinstein, "I might as well be in a Pinto behind the Shrine Auditorium peeling an apple listening to the radio broadcast version of this bullshit."

As it has been on the agenda for tonight's event for quite some time, they call Anne's name and Ms. Hathaway conducts herself with all the restraint she practiced with her Oscar Speech therapist.  She kisses leading man Hugh and hugs arch nemesis/ inspiration Sally ("I hate you, I really, really hate you").  Anne's internal monologue begins to play as she goes through the motions.  Okay don't blow this, Annie.  Don't say blurg.  Act humble and relate to the audience by making that dental joke just like they said ... Oh, good they laughed.  *deep breath*  Now tell a short personal story about how you got your SAG card.  Acknowledge the room, but more humble, more humble.  Shake your head like you earned it, but not in an entitled manner.  Make a reference to Fantine Sr.  Let's try another crack.  Oh, that didn't hit.  Shouldn't have been such a bitch.  Getting too confident again.  Moving on.  Thanks Dad for putting up with my crazy ass, as well as your wife's.  And, oh, yes, everyone, like Jennifer Lawrence, I have brothers (but, remember that one of them is gay), but I guess they should have picked on me more because look how cool and grounded she turned out to be she is nominated in the lead category and I'm in supporting.  Okay, now mention your reps.  Oh, fuck, I don't know any of them by name.  Mayday, mayday.  Quick, make another bitchy, but overly sweet joke.  Yes!  That one worked.  I should wing it more often, I'm so good at this.  Okay, gotta thank manager Susan because, thanks to me, we're greater than The Beatles!  Remind everyone that I was Catwoman.  Thank you director, studios, and, finally, hubby.  I'm told that no one wants to hear our wedding vows, so they can just suck on some sexual innuendo.  Kisses.  

Anne embraces her Oscar Speech coach waiting behind the stage.  "That was good.  Four more weeks.  Just keep your coochie covered at all times, and it's yours."  Sitting at the Silver Linings table that is adorned in a dull grey tablecloth with no discernible flashy, glittery, or positive edges, Grandma Smurf is none to pleased.  "How shit-faced am I going to get if we don't win ensemble?"  Jennifer Garner leans over and whispers, "You better get started now."